


Masquerade

by phoenixquest



Series: Ryndoril and Ondolemar Modern AU [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Flirting, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ondolemar's the Vice President of a movie special-effects company, ScreenMagicka. ScreenMagicka is hosting an event for Halloween, a masquerade ball. Ryndoril, dressed as a pirate, catches Ondolemar's eye. Ondolemar doesn't usually like these social gatherings...but it seems like tonight is looking up.</p><p>An AU for my Ryndoril/Ondolemar relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade

The tall elf walked elegantly through the partygoers, already feeling a bit bored. He was only at the Halloween masquerade because his company was putting it on, and as the vice president of said company, it was expected of him. The upside, however, was that for him the drinks were free. He planned to make good use of that.

There were more people present than he had really expected; it was a new event, and those tended to draw smaller crowds for the first year or two until they gained popularity. Tonight, however, the rented hotel event room was already quite full.

“Ondolemar!” a voice called, catching his attention as he looked around for its source. To his displeasure, he saw his boss, Elenwen, motioning him over. Sighing a little, and grateful for the mask on his face to hide most of his displeasure, he headed her way.

“Good evening, Elenwen,” he said politely. “Your idea is proving quite a success, I see.”

“Of course it is,” she said smugly. “I never doubted it. Do you like my costume?” She was dressed in a pure white gown that fell to the floor, a fur cloak wrapped around her with a crown of icicles atop her head, a glittering silver mask covering her eyes.

“Er, yes,” Ondolemar said, trying to keep the smirk out of his voice. The costume of an Ice Queen was quite fitting for the cold woman, that was for sure. “It’s lovely.”

“And you have chosen well,” Elenwen complimented him; he knew it was less of an honest observation than it was an attempt to seduce him yet again. 

Nonetheless, he knew he looked quite striking in his own outfit; he’d chosen to dress as the Phantom of the Opera, a white mask covering half his face while dressed in an old-fashioned formal black coat and trousers, a white shirt showing on his front and a black cape adorning his shoulders. He’d temporarily dyed his hair black to enhance the effect, pulling the long strands into a low ponytail. He knew it should have been shorter, but he wasn’t willing to cut his hair for the sake of a costume party. Leather gloves and boots completed his outfit.

“Thank you,” he answered his boss politely. “If you’ll excuse me, I was just off to find a drink.”

“That sounds like a very good idea,” Elenwen nodded, and to Ondolemar’s displeasure, she fell into step beside him. “I must say, even I am impressed at the turnout. Though there are a few that I’m not sure should have been let in,” she added, frowning at a man off to the side dressed garishly as a circus clown. Ondolemar snorted in amusement; the point of the masquerade was its elegance, and that was clearly lost on this man.

“You are the one who left the invitation open,” he reminded her. She wrinkled her nose.

“Yes, and I’m sure I won’t make the same mistake again,” she replied. “What will you be drinking tonight, Ondolemar?” she asked as they arrived at the bar.

“A brandy, thank you,” Ondolemar said, nodding at the bartender and putting a bit of cash in the tip jar. Elenwen shook her head in disapproval at that.

“I’ll have scotch this time, Malborn,” Elenwen said, a slight sneer in her voice that was always present when she spoke to anyone she considered beneath her. After the other elf had turned away to fetch their drinks, she lowered her voice, directing it at Ondolemar this time. “You know that’s only there to appease him, don’t you?” she said, indicating the tip jar. “You’re not actually expected to put anything in.”

“I shall do as I please, Elenwen, and you are free to do the same,” Ondolemar sighed. Aside from it simply being polite, he found that his generosity often got him much better service.

“Brandy for the Phantom, and a scotch for the Ice Queen,” Malborn snickered at the last bit, handing over their drinks. Ondolemar shot him a half-smile beneath his mask, amused, but Elenwen ignored them both. He took a sip from his glass, pleased that it appeared to be a high-quality brand, and finally relaxed a little.

The two stood by the bar with their drinks for a few minutes, Ondolemar simply surveying the room. The dance floor was sparsely populated so far, but the party hadn’t started long before. Aside from the clown – still so easily spotted, despite the crowd – most of the attendees had complied with the spirit of the masquerade, dressed formally and elegantly. There was a mix of humans amongst the elven guests, though the elves outnumbered them, but everyone seemed to be mingling quite well.

The string quartet hired to provide music for the evening switched to a faster-paced number then, and he mentally winced as Elenwen’s grin widened, looking over at him.

“Care to dance, Ondolemar?” she asked, her smile predatory.

“I believe it will take far more brandy than this for me to dance tonight,” he said mildly. _At least with you_ , he added in his head. She immediately frowned.

“Fine, be that way,” she said, stalking off. He sighed, knowing he was likely going to pay for that later – she didn’t like being rejected. If his position in this company weren’t so prestigious, he’d quit just to avoid being her underling. He liked it, though; ScreenMagicka was one of the leading special effects companies, and being their vice president was quite an achievement.

“What have you got for wine?” a voice asked at the bar. Ondolemar turned to look out of curiosity. The person standing there was an elf by the ears still visible under his hat, and clearly male, if very short. Ondolemar didn’t think he’d seen him before, but it was hard to be sure, his face hidden by the brim of the hat.

“Whatever you’d like!” the bartender replied enthusiastically, launching into a description of the various wines offered. Ondolemar listened, for lack of anything better to do, and found himself drawn to the voice of the elf in the hat. He was dressed like a pirate; the feathered hat was only the beginning, down to the puffy shirt, the tight pants, the boots, and even an eye patch in place of a true mask.

“That cabernet sounds good,” the elf finally said, grinning as he handed over his payment. So he didn’t work for the company, Ondolemar observed – anyone who did was given free drinks. “Thanks.”

“Coming right up,” Malborn said happily, turning to get the drink. The elf looked casually around as he waited, his eyes finally landing on Ondolemar. Ondolemar tried not to look; he didn’t want to seem rude or creepy, but after a few moments of the elf staring at him, he couldn’t help looking over.

“Hello,” he said politely, secretly grateful for the excuse to look at the elf directly. He was quite handsome; even in the low light of the room, he could see that. He noticed the elf seemed quite surprised, his mouth slightly open as he continued to stare at Ondolemar.

“Oh!” he said, shaking his head as though he’d just realized he was staring. “I – sorry. You’re Ondolemar, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Have we met?” Ondolemar frowned in confusion. How did this elf know him?

“Not until now,” the elf grinned, looking a little self-conscious. Ondolemar found himself slightly distracted by the way the elf’s shirt was opened up in the front. “You’re the vice president of ScreenMagicka. I recognized you from the fliers – I didn’t mean to stare, but I wasn’t sure because your hair’s darker.”

“Ah,” Ondolemar said, reddening slightly. He wasn’t often recognized, but it always made him a bit uncomfortable when he was. “Well, yes, I am. Who are you?” He realized, too late, that he’d sounded a little rude at the end.

“My name’s Ryndoril,” the elf said, removing his hat and sweeping into a showy bow. Ondolemar couldn’t help smiling a little – what a funny little elf. He stood back up as he replaced his hat, grin firmly back in place, and turned to take the wine offered to him by the bartender. “Thanks, my friend,” he nodded to Malborn, walking over closer to Ondolemar then.

“And what brings you to this masquerade tonight?” Ondolemar asked, glad for an excuse to keep up conversation. There was something thoroughly entrancing about the elf’s sunny, somewhat gravelly voice, and he wanted to keep listening to it.

“It sounded fun,” Ryndoril laughed. “And my sister’s part of ScreenMagicka. Office work,” he added.

“Do I know her?” Ondolemar asked, arching an eyebrow as he carefully looked away from the elf now by his side, feeling a little hot under the collar at his nearness.

“Not likely,” Ryndoril said cheerfully. “Her name’s Rhiannon, but she’s an office worker in the legal department.”

“Hmm, no, I don’t believe I do, then,” Ondolemar admitted. It was hard enough to keep up with the higher-level employees, let alone other departments. “Well, Ryndoril, I do hope you and your sister enjoy your evening,” he added graciously. _There, Elenwen_ , he thought snarkily. _Am I mingling enough for you?_

“Oh, I am,” Ryndoril grinned. Ondolemar could still feel the elf’s eyes on him. “Who would have thought I’d get to meet the VP, after all?” Ondolemar smirked.

“Well, if you really want someone important, you ought to meet my boss, the president,” he offered. “Elenwen.” He caught the elf making a face out of the corner of his eye.

“Ah…no thanks,” Ryndoril said hastily. “I mean – no offense, of course, but – “ Ondolemar couldn’t help but chuckle as he glanced back over at Ryndoril.

“I see her reputation is spoken of at all levels,” he replied. “I suggest avoiding the tall elf wearing the ice crown, then.”

“Good tip,” Ryndoril said gratefully. They fell silent then, and Ondolemar cast his mind around for something else to say – he was sure the elf would walk away soon if he didn’t continue the conversation.

“So your sister works for ScreenMagicka,” Ondolemar said. “What is it that you do, Ryndoril?”

“I’m a traveler,” Ryndoril replied, and Ondolemar saw him flush a little. “Nothing quite as prestigious as working for ScreenMagicka, I’m afraid.”

“A traveler?” Ondolemar asked with interest; he’d always thought he might like to travel. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Ryndoril replied, sounding more eager at Ondolemar’s interest. “Yeah, I visit places all over the world and sometimes write about them.”

“You have books?” Ondolemar asked.

“Nah, not quite,” Ryndoril said, shaking his head. “Pieces for magazines, usually. I had a piece in last month’s Travel International,” he explained. “I went to France a few months back.”

“France,” Ondolemar said, sounding awed. “Incredible. I must have missed that issue,” he added. “I typically read that magazine.”

“Really?” Ryndoril asked, sounding a little excited. “You’re interested in travel?”

“If I ever had the time,” Ondolemar snorted, downing the last bit of his brandy. “I choose to live it vicariously.” Ryndoril laughed.

“Let me get you another one of those,” Ryndoril said, nodding to Ondolemar’s empty glass. Ondolemar was surprised at the offer; generally no one paid him any attention at these functions, let alone acted friendly to him. “What was it?”

“Thank you very much,” Ondolemar nodded, “but I ought to tell you that as an employee, I get my drinks free tonight.”

“Ah,” Ryndoril said, looking embarrassed. “Right. Well – “

“I’d be happy to add your refill to my tab,” Ondolemar added quickly, feeling it was only polite. He liked the attention he was getting, and he definitely wanted to keep talking to the traveling elf. Ryndoril looked surprised as well, then smiled.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding. “The caber-“

“Cabernet sauvignon,” Ondolemar finished. “I heard.” He returned to Malborn then, asking for a refill of his own and the cabernet before handing the wine glass to Ryndoril.

“Would you like to find a seat somewhere?” Ryndoril asked, his fingers almost purposefully brushing Ondolemar’s as the glass changed hands. Ondolemar felt a slight tingle at that, even through the gloves.

“I…would like that very much,” Ondolemar replied, feeling his face grow hot. It had been some time since anyone had been so forthright with him, and he wasn’t at all used to it; even more unsettling was that it was usually women. He never had much interest, though – but tonight, he very much enjoyed Ryndoril’s attention.

Ondolemar led the way through more of the crowd to the tables he knew were toward the back of the room; a single table remained off to the side, and he motioned for Ryndoril to sit down before taking his own seat.

“So…France,” Ondolemar said once they were settled. “What took you there?”

“A gift,” Ryndoril grinned. “My sister knows I have a taste for wine, and for my birthday this year, she got me a plane ticket to France.”

“Quite generous,” Ondolemar nodded. “What was it like?”

“The countryside is beautiful,” Ryndoril smiled. “And the wine is amazing, of course. I went to Paris as well,” he added. “Oddly enough, to the Paris Opera House.” He gestured to Ondolemar’s outfit, and the taller elf chuckled.

“And did you meet the Phantom?” he asked teasingly.

“No, no phantoms,” Ryndoril said, laughing. “But it was quite beautiful. I’ve always loved that musical.”

“As have I,” Ondolemar said. “Have you read the book?”

“Of course!” Ryndoril said happily. They spent some time discussing the merits of the book and the musical adaptation, Ryndoril throwing in descriptions from his trip now and then to Ondolemar’s delight. 

Time passed quickly, as it tends to do when one is having a good time, and it didn’t seem like very long before Ondolemar realized his glass was empty again. Ryndoril noticed and smiled.

“If you’ll allow me, I’d love to get you another glass,” Ryndoril offered. 

“No, that’s quite all right, I’ve got it,” Ondolemar said at once, used to tending to himself and feeling a bit awkward at the offer. He saw the other elf’s face fall slightly.

“Right,” Ryndoril said hastily. “I – sorry. It was lovely talking with you,” he finished, getting to his feet. “Thanks for the wine.”

“Wait!” Ondolemar said in alarm. He realized the elf thought he was being rejected. “No, I didn’t mean anything like that,” he hurried to explain. “I would love to continue our conversation. I just – I’m not – “ he sighed, trailing off and shaking his head. “I apologize, Ryndoril. I am not typically part of the ‘social’ aspect of these events. I did not mean to be rude.” Ryndoril considered this, then offered him a half-smile.

“I don’t want to take up your entire evening,” he hedged. “You’ve already been more than generous with your time.” Ondolemar’s face reddened, as did his ears. The elf thought _he’d_ been generous? All he’d be doing if it weren’t for Ryndoril would be trying to avoid Elenwen, most likely, or politely dancing with women he had no interest in. He didn’t particularly like trying to chat up potential clients, much to Elenwen’s chagrin.

“On the contrary, you have been quite generous to share your time with me,” Ondolemar said smoothly, trying to make up for his rudeness. He knew how to be polite, of course, but it just wasn’t something that naturally came to him, and he wasn’t usually the recipient of such advances. “Surely you came here to do more than sit and talk with a rude old elf?” Ryndoril laughed at that, a rich sound that pleased Ondolemar immensely.

“I came here because my sister made me,” Ryndoril admitted. “She didn’t want to come alone. I’m not much for the big social functions, myself.” He still stood, unsure whether he ought to sit back down. “Actually, I probably ought to check on her,” he added. “Make sure she’s doing okay.”

“Er…right,” Ondolemar said awkwardly. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“I could come back,” Ryndoril said hopefully, looking questioningly at Ondolemar. “I mean, if you wanted. I wouldn’t be long.” Ondolemar’s heart leapt – so little time spent with this elf, but already he craved his presence. He realized that with Ryndoril, he was having _fun_ – something he hadn’t expected at all this evening.

“That would be nice,” Ondolemar said. “I…I would truly enjoy that.” Ryndoril’s face lit up in a beaming grin, making Ondolemar smile, too.

“Be back soon, then,” Ryndoril said cheerfully, taking Ondolemar’s glass and walking off. Ondolemar watched him until he disappeared into the crowd of people. Those tight pants really worked on him, Ondolemar thought to himself, then shook his head and snorted. How crude that was.

Crude or not, though, it was true, he had to admit to himself. And he couldn’t stop being distracted by the amount of the other elf’s chest that was showing through the open-front shirt while they chatted. The hat complemented Ryndoril’s outfit perfectly, and though it hid his face quite a bit in the low light, Ondolemar could see enough of him to become utterly infatuated. The red hair he could see under the hat was striking, as was the cinnamon-brown eye visible without the eye patch. 

It had been a long time since he’d looked at another man in such a way; he had no interest in women at all, but he typically focused his attention on his work or the like. He knew that his preferences still weren’t what one would call universally accepted, and rather than cause problems with it, he mostly kept to himself.

Ryndoril, however, was clearly also interested in men – Ondolemar was no fool, and he knew when he was being flirted with. He liked the elf a lot, and he especially liked that the elf was so interested in speaking with him. It made him feel good – it wasn’t often he had anyone to truly talk with at one of these things, aside from talking business or polite chit-chat.

“There you are,” a grating voice interrupted Ondolemar’s thoughts, and he closed his eyes in annoyance.

“Hello again, Elenwen,” he said politely, turning to her. “Having fun?”

“Hmm,” Elenwen said in a bored voice. “As though it would be possible, surrounded by such idiots. What are you doing over here in the corner, anyway?” she asked, shaking her head. “Shouldn’t you be trying to find new clients?”

“Probably,” Ondolemar agreed. “You know how much I dislike these things, Elenwen.”

“Well, they’re necessary if you want to keep business,” Elenwen said shortly. “As though I _like_ pandering to these uncultured slobs.”

“It _was_ your idea,” Ondolemar reminded her. “You thought that Halloween was the perfect excuse to do this, remember?”

“Yes,” she said impatiently, “for the company, not because I wanted to.” She sighed dramatically. “The least you could do is dance with me,” she finally said. “If you’re just sitting here tucked away from everything anyway.”

“I’m not,” Ondolemar said, bristling. “I’m – “ he paused, realizing he couldn’t exactly explain. He knew that of all people, she would not approve of his fascination with this elf. She gave him an odd look, and he blew out a breath. “Fine, Elenwen, let’s go.” He got to his feet, glancing around for Ryndoril. He didn’t see the elf, and just had to hope he’d be able to find him and explain later.

He moved gracefully into a quickstep in time with the music; he was a very good dancer, he knew, having been forced to take lessons when he was younger. Elenwen was nearly as good; being from a rich family, she’d likely been brought up learning to dance as well. He used the opportunity to scan the room once more, and then he saw the red-haired elf, standing by the bar and talking to someone dressed as a cat – presumably his sister, by her own long red hair.

“When are you going to stop playing hard to get and finally come to bed with me?” Elenwen asked as they danced, smirking. Ondolemar tried not to grit his teeth in frustration – she nearly always pulled something like this, though it was only after quite a few drinks she started being so brazen about it.

“You know very well how inappropriate that would be, Elenwen,” Ondolemar said, shaking his head. _When hell freezes over_ , he answered in his mind. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“You do make it difficult to like you,” Elenwen said, clearly annoyed. _Apparently not difficult enough_ , Ondolemar thought. “One of these days, though, I am going to change your mind.” He had difficulty not rolling his eyes.

He knew very well she had no interest in him personally; she wanted to sleep with him because he was a rich, well-bred elf like her, and it would be good for her status. Even if he were interested in women, she would certainly not be an option. He did have _standards_ , after all.

He spotted Ryndoril again then, the elf frowning in his direction as his sister pointed toward Ondolemar and Elenwen. _Oh, dammit_ , Ondolemar thought angrily. Ryndoril was going to think he’d lost interest! Hoping that maybe, somehow, there was enough light for Ryndoril to see, he made a face and used one hand to point to the garish ice crown on Elenwen’s head, trying to indicate it was the one he’d talked about earlier. Ryndoril seemed to notice, for he smiled in amusement then and turned back to chatting with his sister.

The song finally ended; Ondolemar wondered if Elenwen had picked the longest song ever played on purpose.

“You’ve had your dance,” Ondolemar said, letting her go immediately. “Can’t you go bother one of the others now?” Elenwen rolled her eyes.

“Charming,” she replied, shaking her head, but she walked off, leaving Ondolemar free to hurry back to the table he’d left before. Ryndoril was sitting there with red-haired woman, the two of them laughing.

“Oh! You’re back,” Ryndoril said, sounding delighted. Ondolemar flushed at that. “Ondolemar, this is my sister, Rhiannon.”

“Hello,” Ondolemar said, inclining his head politely to her. “I’m sorry we haven’t yet met.”

“It’s a large company,” Rhiannon acknowledged. “But it’s nice to meet you properly, Ondolemar.”

“And you,” Ondolemar replied. “I will leave you two – “

“No, no,” Rhiannon said quickly, getting to her feet. “I was just leaving. I met up with a couple of my friends, and we’re taking full advantage of the bar,” she said with a grin. Ondolemar chuckled.

“I don’t blame you in the least,” he said. “Have a good evening, Rhiannon.” The woman left then, leaving Ondolemar alone with Ryndoril once more.

“I got your brandy,” Ryndoril said, indicating the glass. Ondolemar smiled briefly at him.

“Ryndoril, I apologize,” he said sincerely, taking his seat. “I did not intend for that – “

“Nah, don’t worry,” Ryndoril said, waving his hand dismissively. “Once you pointed out the crown, I understood,” he added with a grin.

“She is insufferable,” Ondolemar muttered, taking a long drink of the brandy. “Ah. That’s better.” Ryndoril laughed.

“Glad to help,” he said. “So I’ve been going on about me all evening…what about you? What’s it like, working at ScreenMagicka?”

“Intensely boring,” Ondolemar said wryly, making Ryndoril grin. “With my position, it is mostly about trying to find clients, keep up our image, come up with events like tonight, and paperwork. I have very little to do with the effects studio anymore.”

“How come?” Ryndoril asked.

“Well, we hire people to handle that,” Ondolemar explained. “The vice president of the company is expected to ensure things run smoothly, and be the face of the company. It simply isn’t my job anymore.”

“But you miss it,” Ryndoril observed, and Ondolemar wondered how he was so easily read. “You want to be working with the effects teams.”

“I do,” Ondolemar confessed. “But…it is a prestigious position to hold, vice president. Sometimes, things are expected of you, and you simply…do them.”

“Hardly seems fair,” Ryndoril said, shaking his head. “Clearly, you’re not cut out for all the socializing anyway.”

“I’m not _that_ bad at it,” Ondolemar said, disgruntled. “I am perfectly polite and capable of talking to people.”

“Yes,” Ryndoril nodded, “I see that. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. But you don’t _like_ it, so you’re still not really made for such a thing.” Ondolemar considered that; he couldn’t really argue the point.

“I still get involved where I can,” Ondolemar said. “Usually, the team doesn’t want any input from higher-ups; they think us detached and assume we don’t really know what we’re talking about anymore. But some of them are more understanding and like my ideas.”

“I bet you have good ones,” Ryndoril smiled, making Ondolemar redden at the compliment.

“Really, though, I’d much rather hear about your travels,” Ondolemar said, changing the subject. “It’s much more interesting than office paperwork and dull parties.”

“I don’t know,” Ryndoril said, his uncovered eye sparkling, “I don’t think this party’s so dull.”

“You say as you sit off in a corner, talking to an unsociable elf,” Ondolemar snorted. Ryndoril stared at him, clearly contemplating something, and finally smiled.

“You know, you’re right,” he said decisively, getting to his feet. “It’s a party, right? Let’s dance.”

“I – what?” Ondolemar asked, bewildered. That was the last thing he’d expected – he only danced with Elenwen because he had to! “No – no. I don’t dance.”

“I _just_ saw you dancing,” Ryndoril laughed. “Come on.”

“That was because I had no choice,” Ondolemar argued. “I don’t – it wouldn’t be – “ He stopped, unsure what to even say. There was no reason not to dance with the elf, not really; none aside from not wanting to make a fool of himself. He knew he was a good dancer, but…with Ryndoril? Touching the elf, holding him like he’d have to? Ryndoril stared at him for a moment, seeming to try to make up his mind.

“You don’t have to,” he finally shrugged, though he sounded a little let down. “I’m not very good, anyway. I just thought…” he trailed off, too. “Nevermind.” He sat back down, taking a drink before Ondolemar could even let his brain catch up to what was happening. “Have I misread you?” Ryndoril asked quietly, leaning across the table and sounding a little anxious. “I apologize if I was wrong. I was sure you seemed interested in – “

“I am,” Ondolemar broke in, finally able to speak. “I…I truly am,” he admitted. “I’m very interested in you.”

“I was going to say men,” Ryndoril said, reddening but looking delighted, “but…that’s good to know.”

“Oh,” Ondolemar said, reddening as well. “Well – well, yes, I mean, I am…”

“Hey, relax,” Ryndoril said with a friendly smile then. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, I wouldn’t have even said anything if I wasn’t interested in _you_.”

“Why?” Ondolemar asked, unable to stop himself. He had to know – it just seemed so strange.

“Why?” Ryndoril said, uncovered eye widening incredulously. “Seriously? You’re gorgeous, for one, and you’re dressed as a character from one of my favorite musicals,” he elaborated. “You’re fun to talk to, you’re interesting, and…well, we obviously have a lot in common.”

“You flatter me,” Ondolemar murmured, shaking his head. He’d never heard anyone be so complimentary about him before.

“Well, maybe you deserve to be flattered,” Ryndoril said determinedly. “You’ve made my night a good bit better than I thought it would be when Rhi dragged me out of the house.” Ondolemar looked at the other elf for a moment, trying to gather his courage.

“Likewise,” he finally replied, his voice soft. “You…you are wonderful company, Ryndoril.” Ryndoril grinned, and tentatively reached his hand across the table; an unspoken invitation. Ondolemar took it in his gloved one, a surge of happiness flooding him as Ryndoril squeezed his fingers.

“We can just keep talking,” Ryndoril assured him. “We don’t have to dance. It was just a thought. But…I like this.”

“I like this, too,” Ondolemar said, an odd feeling overcoming him as he realized he felt no awkwardness in being honest with the other elf. “And…yes. I _would_ like to dance. If you’d still accompany me.”

“I would be honored,” Ryndoril grinned, making Ondolemar’s stomach do a weird sort of flop. He got to his feet, not letting go of Ryndoril’s hand, and led the elf to the dance floor. Just before they got there, the quartet struck up a quite slow song; as though Ondolemar needed _more_ pressure, he thought anxiously.

Taking a deep breath, he found them a clear spot and placed his hand on Ryndoril’s back, trying to stop a shudder when Ryndoril’s hand found his shoulder. He took the elf’s other hand, clasping it in his own as he began to lead the smaller elf in a slow waltz.

Every part of him was intensely aware of how close Ryndoril was to him now; it was closer than they’d been all evening, and there was a kind of electricity between them that nearly threw Ondolemar off balance.

A moment later, he _was_ thrown off balance; Ryndoril hadn’t moved the right way and instead stepped on Ondolemar’s foot, startling him.

“Sorry,” Ryndoril said, embarrassed as they righted themselves. “I uh…wasn’t kidding when I said I wasn’t very good.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ondolemar said smoothly, taking the opportunity to hold the elf just a little tighter on the pretense of guiding him better. He realized with a bit of a jolt that this was the first time he’d ever danced with another man; it felt far less awkward than it ever had with women. It felt…right.

“You’re really good at this,” Ryndoril said, gazing up at him, and Ondolemar finally had to look back down at the elf; he’d been avoiding his gaze so far, afraid of what it might do to look at him. Seeing Ryndoril’s face so close, his uncovered eye sparkling happily, Ondolemar’s heart missed a beat – and so did his legs. He was the one who stumbled this time, throwing them both off and leaving Ryndoril to steady them. The red-haired elf laughed. “Well, you _were_.”

“It isn’t my fault you’re distracting,” Ondolemar mumbled, face and ears brilliantly red. He was wishing his mask covered more than half his face at the moment. Ryndoril smiled.

“I’ll try to stop,” he teased, and Ondolemar managed a small smile in return. They continued to dance, Ryndoril occasionally missing a step now and then, but they were quiet as they simply moved to the music. Eventually, however, Ryndoril’s dancing skill caught up to them again, leaving him nearly knocking them both over as he managed to step on both of Ondolemar’s feet at once. They stumbled upright, looked at each other, and both burst out laughing.

“You _are_ terrible at this,” Ondolemar told him, still chuckling.

“I know,” Ryndoril said, shaking his head and laughing, too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested it.” Ondolemar smiled kindly at him; he felt very tender toward this elf, particularly after all that.

“No, I’m glad you did,” he assured him, rearranging his hold on the elf then so that they were pressed quite close together, no longer doing anything resembling a waltz. “Perhaps this will work better,” he said, a little breathless at their closeness.

“I won’t complain,” Ryndoril said, sounding a bit breathless as well. Ondolemar wrapped his arms around the smaller elf, Ryndoril tossing his hat to a table nearby and resting his head against Ondolemar’s shoulder as they swayed more gently to the music now. It might have looked a little silly, really, but Ondolemar couldn’t care. This was… _amazing_. This was the happiest he’d been in a good long while; this was exactly what he’d needed tonight.

“Thank you,” Ondolemar murmured, glad this song seemed to last a while too.

“What for?” Ryndoril asked, looking up at him. Ondolemar had to smile; without the hat, he could more easily see the elf’s face, and he was even more gorgeous than Ondolemar had thought.

“For taking the time to talk with me,” Ondolemar explained quietly. “For sitting with me…dancing with me, even. I’m…having a good time.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ryndoril murmured, unable to tear his gaze from the taller elf’s. “I am, too.”

Something came over Ondolemar as he looked down at the elf, an impulsive desire that he couldn’t – and didn’t really want to – repress. Even though it was something he never thought he’d do, especially not like this – he leaned down and pressed his lips to Ryndoril’s, squeezing the elf tightly to him.

He felt Ryndoril’s sharp intake of breath; he’d clearly surprised the elf, but Ryndoril didn’t try to pull away. The elf’s lips moved against his, and he even felt the soft flick of a tongue on the sensitive skin; he shivered at the sensation and deepened the kiss himself, tasting Ryndoril. He tasted like the wine he’d been drinking, and Ondolemar found it to be far better than his own brandy.

It was only when the music picked up to a faster pace that Ondolemar managed to realize they had stopped dancing and were now standing on the edge of the dance floor simply wrapped around one another. He pulled back from the smaller elf, breathing hard, and saw Ryndoril smiling dazedly up at him. He smiled, too.

“Want to go for a walk outside?” Ryndoril asked quietly, reaching for his hat again.

“Yes,” Ondolemar replied. “Very much.” Ryndoril led this time, keeping hold of Ondolemar’s hand as he headed for the doors. Before they could reach them, however, Elenwen found them.

“Ondolemar!” she said fiercely, and Ryndoril immediately dropped the elf’s hand. “Where are you going? Have you even spoken to _anyone_ this evening?”

“I am stepping outside for some air,” Ondolemar snapped, greatly annoyed that she’d interrupted his lovely evening. “Surely even you can’t protest that?”

“You have a job to do,” Elenwen reminded him. “You are supposed to be helping secure clients. That was the entire point of this party.”

“The point of this party was for you to show off,” Ondolemar said disparagingly. “So go continue showing off. _I_ am getting some air.” With that he stalked off, leaving Ryndoril to follow. Elenwen glared at the smaller elf as he stood, frozen with surprise, before hurrying after Ondolemar.

The tall elf walked outside to the hotel’s small courtyard, pacing furiously for a moment before Ryndoril caught up to him and put a calming hand on his arm. He turned, still furious, but something about seeing the smaller elf’s face calmed him.

“You all right?” Ryndoril asked cautiously, removing his hand. “Am I causing you trouble?”

“No,” Ondolemar sighed, shaking his head. “She is the one causing trouble. Don’t worry about it.”

“You want another drink?” Ryndoril asked with a small laugh. Ondolemar managed a smile.

“No, but thank you,” he replied. “I’ll be fine.” He reached for Ryndoril’s hand again, a little unsure, but the smaller elf gripped it firmly.

“It’s a little cold out tonight,” Ryndoril mentioned as they started walking around the small courtyard. They were the only ones outside, which suited them both just fine.

“It is,” Ondolemar agreed. “Going to end up snowing soon enough, I think.” He wanted to smack himself – the weather? He was talking about the _weather_?

“I like snow,” Ryndoril smiled, making Ondolemar feel a little better. “It’s pretty.”

“A little of it can be,” Ondolemar agreed. “When there’s very much, it’s simply a mess.”

“A fun mess,” Ryndoril argued, and Ondolemar laughed. He was already forgetting about the incident with Elenwen inside.

“If you say so,” Ondolemar replied. They walked on a little farther, coming to a stone bench. Ryndoril sat down, smiling expectantly at Ondolemar, and the tall elf joined him.

“Is she always like that?” Ryndoril finally asked, his hand still clasped in Ondolemar’s. He was grateful for the warmth.

“That?” Ondolemar snorted. “No, that was her being _nice_. You don’t want to see her on a bad day.” Ryndoril laughed.

“So, are you doing anything fun tomorrow night?” Ryndoril asked. The following night was Halloween itself.

“If by ‘fun’ you mean not attending one of these engagements, then yes,” Ondolemar smirked. Ryndoril grinned.

“My sister wants me to come to her party,” Ryndoril said, shaking his head. “I told her she’s expecting far too much for one weekend.”

“Do you live around here?” Ondolemar asked.

“Nah,” Ryndoril said, shaking his head. “About twenty minutes outside the city. You?”

“Just a few blocks away,” Ondolemar replied. “Easier to get to work that way. You drove here tonight, then?”

“Yeah,” Ryndoril nodded. “Which is good, if my sister’s going to be ‘taking full advantage of the bar’,” he added wryly.

“Indeed,” Ondolemar chuckled. “So are you going to her party for her, then?”

“I don’t know,” Ryndoril said, shaking his head. “I don’t really want to. She’s always trying to set me up with people. And it’s never a good thing,” he added with a short laugh. “But she’ll beg, and tell me how much she really wants me there, and so I’ll probably end up going.” Ondolemar smiled.

“It sounds like you have a good relationship,” he observed.

“We do, even if she drives me crazy,” Ryndoril laughed. “What about you – do you have any siblings?”

“One,” Ondolemar said. “Aurelion. He lives on the other side of the country.”

“Oh,” Ryndoril replied. “Big separation.”

“Yes,” Ondolemar agreed. “But we still see each other at least once every year, if not more. He’s married,” he added. “A child on the way, too.”

“Wow,” Ryndoril said. “So you’re going to be Uncle Ondolemar?” The elf made a face.

“Don’t remind me,” he said, shaking his head, and Ryndoril grinned.

“You don’t like the idea?” he guessed.

“I am no good around children,” Ondolemar confessed. “I have no idea what to do with them.” Ryndoril laughed at that.

“Fair enough,” he said, scooting closer to the taller elf. Ondolemar felt him shivering.

“Are you too cold? Do you want to go back inside?” he asked at once, feeling guilty for keeping Ryndoril out here just for company.

“No, I’m fine,” Ryndoril said firmly, though he continued shivering. “I want to stay here.” Ondolemar couldn’t help but be surprised. Did the elf really like him enough to want to freeze to stay with him?

“Here,” Ondolemar said quietly, and he removed the cape that was part of his costume and wrapped it around Ryndoril’s shoulders. The smaller elf smiled brilliantly up at him as he removed his hat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Ryndoril said, “but thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ondolemar replied. He realized he was happy to do it; it gave him a certain warmth, to make such a gesture to someone. He very much liked how it felt. “Er…” he started, then stopped, unsure; he’d never really asked anyone over before, and wasn’t entirely sure what to say.

“Hmm?” Ryndoril asked, looking up at him and finally removing his eye patch. The effect of both cinnamon-colored eyes looking hopefully up at him undid Ondolemar.

“Ryndoril…would you like to get together tomorrow night?” Ondolemar asked, feeling incredibly anxious as he did so. What if he was being too forward? “I mean, unless you’d rather go to your sister’s party,” he added hastily. Ryndoril’s smile made his face glow.

“I would _love_ to get together with you tomorrow night,” he replied honestly. “Have anything in mind?”

“You could come to my apartment,” Ondolemar said, bolstered by the fact that the elf was so enthusiastic about it. “We could…I don’t know, watch ridiculous Halloween movies?” Ryndoril laughed exuberantly.

“Sounds like fun to me,” he replied, leaning against Ondolemar. The taller elf couldn’t help grinning now; what luck he had that Ryndoril was interested! “Do you want me to bring any?”

“You can,” Ondolemar said. “Whatever you’d like. I have some, too.” Just then, something caught Ondolemar’s eye – the lights inside were dimming. “Oh, dammit,” he cursed, getting to his feet.

“What’s wrong?” Ryndoril asked, bewildered, jumping to his feet as well and grabbing his hat.

“It’s later than I realized,” Ondolemar said sheepishly, running his hand nervously over his tied-back hair. “We need to go. They’re closing.”

“Oh!” Ryndoril said. Had time really gone so quickly? It felt like he’d just started talking to Ondolemar.

“Sorry about that,” Ondolemar said. “I hope your sister’s not worried about you.”

“Ryn!” Rhiannon giggled as the two walked inside, coming toward them drunkenly. “Hi!”

“I’d say not,” Ryndoril said dryly in answer to Ondolemar’s question, catching Rhiannon as she stumbled. “Hey, sis. Let’s get you home.”

“Didn’t you have the _most_ fun tonight?” she asked dreamily. “I had _so_ much fun.”

“Yes…I really did,” he replied, though he looked at Ondolemar as he said it, smiling. “You go on out to the car, Rhi, I’ll be out in just a minute, all right?”

“Okay,” Rhiannon said agreeably. “I’ll meet you…uh…by the…” she stumbled off, and Ryndoril chuckled, shaking his head. He knew she wouldn’t get far. He pulled out his cell phone, noticing Ondolemar had just done the same. They quickly exchanged numbers.

“I’ll send you a message tomorrow with my address. It isn’t far from here; you shouldn’t have any trouble finding it,” Ondolemar said.

“Great,” Ryndoril grinned. “I’ll see you…around seven?”

“All right,” Ondolemar nodded. “I’ll see you then.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling as though he should say something more, or _do_ something more, but not quite sure what. Ryndoril solved the problem for him, however, by stepping close and reaching up to kiss him – not as deep of a kiss as the one before, but enough to make Ondolemar tingle.

“Good night, Ondolemar,” Ryndoril said, his voice almost shy all of a sudden.

“Good night, Ryndoril,” Ondolemar replied, unable to get the smile off his face as he watched the elf go catch up to his sister – who hadn’t, in fact, made it very far – and lead her out the door.

“Well, I hope you’re happy,” Elenwen huffed, coming up behind him. “I think you wasted the entire night.”

“Perhaps,” Ondolemar murmured. He couldn’t bring himself to care even a little.

It wasn’t until he was home and taking his costume off later that he realized the red-haired elf still had his cape. Smiling to himself, he hoped it would continue to keep him warm.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't normally do AUs, so I hope this one worked out well. I got it in my head, thanks to a competition on DeviantArt, and it sort of...got stuck. Enjoy!


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